virtual/reality

I owe this blog to Shadra Strickland; when Bird first came out in late 2008, she insisted that I start a blog and I reluctantly agreed. Now I can't imagine being a writer without a blog, and it has been through the blogosphere that I've started to build a community north of the border. I have a LOT of family in Toronto, and I owe my improving relationship with that city to their generosity, love, and support. They put me up (and put up with me), they ply me with food, they drive me all over the city, and do whatever they can to make my occasional visits more enjoyable and less stressful. I got quite a few free meals while I was up in Toronto last week, and I really appreciate all the laughter that came with those meals. I got to spend a little time with my cousin's son, Kodie; he was the first kid reader of Ship of Souls, and the book is dedicated to him. It's for all the kids in Canada, really, who are waiting to find a book that can serve as a mirror/window/sliding glass door (as per Rudine Sims Bishop).  Kodie's childhood is a lot like mine in some ways—I never won a gold medal with my hockey team, but I grew up in a predominantly white community and didn't have any black role models at my school. I didn't have a black educator until my last semester of my last year of college. When I finally discovered African American literature, I didn't see it as compatible with my own country and so I left; I returned, tried to publish my own writing, failed miserably, and left again. I want children of color in Canada to grow up dreaming about a fabulous future for themselves within those borders. Or rather, I don't want them to feel bound to a place that stifles their ability to dream. I feel much better about Kodie's prospects now that I've met some folks online who are doing great work in Canada: like writer/reviewer Niranjana Iyer who started Women Doing Literary Things and Nayani Thiyagarajah who worked with other young women of color to make the important film, Shadeism. I hope other artists will follow Vivek Shraya's lead and ensure that LGBTQ youth see themselves in books. And I hope there will always be a place like the Toronto Women's Bookstore—a home for books like mine, and a safe space for people and ideas that aren't always welcome or validated elsewhere. The store's owner, Victoria Moreno, took some great photos of our 4/21 event; if you're in Toronto, please support the women's bookstore—several of my books are in stock there alongside many other important books from writers who share a feminist vision of the world. Pictured below: me, Neesha Meminger, Vivek Shraya, and Annemarie Shrouder.